


Their Usual

by ilikeshipment



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Asexual Agent Washington, M/M, RvB Fluff Week, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6704914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeshipment/pseuds/ilikeshipment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Washington is asexual, so Tucker shows that he loves him any way he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Usual

Grif laughed in Tucker’s face. “Oh, man dude! That sucks for you! Guess you gotta move on now haha!”

“Dude, fuck off,” Tucker spat, crossing his arms.

“What did you do when he told you??” Grif asked, sounding like a high school student gossiping.

“Told him it was okay and then asked if he wanted to listen to some music.” Tucker puffed out his chest, proud of his answer and the fact that it was actually true.

Grif laughed again. “I bet he was shocked.”

“He was. But then we actually did listen to music and it was… nice.”

“Yeah? And how long is it gonna be before it’s not ‘nice’ anymore?” Grif asked, still amused.

Tucker narrowed his eyes at him. What a dick. “Actually,” he started. “That’s not going to happen. I actually like him, dude. And I’ve been masturbating for years, I can keep doing that. Just now I won’t be lonely.” He let out a shaky breath. He’s been holding that one in. He might be a pervert, but he’s also an emotional son of a bitch and his emotions always control his actions more than his physical wants. He’ll deny that fact when it comes to anything else, but not Wash.

Grif’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, you’re actually kind of serious,” he said, sounding astonished.

“Yeah dude! Fuck you!”

Tucker didn’t lie about any of it, though. After being on this God forsaken planet for three weeks, Wash had an extraordinarily bad panic attack, which Tucker helped him calm down from. During those vulnerable moments, Wash started opening up to him. He told Tucker that he makes him feel safe and that he can trust him. And then he looked up at Tucker with those big green eyes still full of tears and bright red cheeks. He was an emotional mess, but he looked so _beautiful._ If Tucker’s heart could beat out of his chest like a cartoon character’s, it would have.

Tucker spent the night in Wash’s room that night. Feelings were shared, kisses were exchanged. When Tucker started getting handsy, Wash stopped him immediately. He said he needed to tell him something. When Tucker asked if it could wait, Wash said no. Tucker backed off, giving Wash space, and then he came out and said it. “I’m asexual.”

Tucker grew up in a very liberal area. He knew what that meant and, judging from his reputation, he seemed like the kind of person who ‘couldn’t understand’ asexuals. Well that was 100% incorrect. But he knew that’s probably what Wash was thinking and was prepping for the heart break.

What he got instead was Tucker smiling and saying, “That’s okay. Do you want to listen to some music? I think I have a ‘Good Vibes’ playlist…”

And that’s what they did. They listened to some old Earth music, held hands, and talked some more. There were some face, shoulders, and hand kisses peppered throughout the night until they fell asleep. It was honestly perfect and Tucker hoped that Wash thought it was, too.

That night is referred to as the official start of their relationship. That was months ago. Now the Feds and the Rebels have teamed up and are preparing for war. But that doesn’t stop Tucker from showing his love for Wash. Yeah, love. It takes a while for them to feel comfortable saying it, but they get there. And once they get there, Tucker tries to say it as often as possible. He never wants Wash to doubt that he loves him. To assure that never happens, Tucker shows how he feels every way he can think of that isn’t his typical brand.

First things first, he quickly came up with a system that allows him to be affectionate with Wash without getting an awkward boner and then subsequently becoming blue balled. Most of their one-on-one/affection time unfortunately only happens late at night, so Tucker just masturbates in the shower before joining Wash in his room. It allows him to be spent and Wash appreciates the fact that he can’t hear him when he does it, so it’s a win-win.

Wash didn’t want their private life to be talked about, but Tucker thought he should tell Grif because 1) they’re best friends and 2) it would get him to stop asking awkward sexual questions that he couldn’t answer. He expected Grif to be a dick about it but goddamn he was angry now. He just wanted to see Wash now.

Tucker came out of the shower, feeling satisfied and clean. He used the body wash that Wash loved so much. It was a nice scent, so he didn’t use it often, but when he did Wash was just a little more cuddlier than normal. He plopped down on the bed next to Wash who, as soon as the smell of the soap hit him, he draped an arm across Tucker’s chest and nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck. He took a deep breath and sighed happily. Tucker laughed, placing his hands on Wash’s arm and rubbing his skin with his thumbs.

“Hi, there,” he whispered.

Wash pecked his neck. “Hi,” he greeted, squeezing Tucker’s shoulder.

“How are you?” Tucker asked as if they haven’t been messaging each other all day. Wash shrugged.

“I’m alright. More of the usual,” he responded.

“Same.”

They lied there for a few minutes, not talking, just breathing each other in. Then Tucker turned to look his boyfriend in the eyes. Then he kissed his forehead. Then his nose. “I love you,” he whispered. He needed to say that after his frustrating talk with Grif. Wash didn’t know he told him, though. He didn’t want to upset him. Wash smiled and lifted himself up to kiss Tucker properly.

“Love you, too,” he said and Tucker’s heart leapt. It always leapt when Wash said that, especially because he always sounded so vulnerable and scared when he said it. Like he was scared Tucker would change his mind at those words and leave him. _As if._

Tucker kissed Wash again and then pushed him down gently so he was lying on his back. This way he could get into their usual sleeping position. Wash would lay on his back with an arm around Tucker’s shoulders and Tucker would lay pressed against Wash’s side, throwing an arm around his waist and tangling their legs together.

Tucker traced little patterns on Wash’s arm, trying his best to ease him so he could sleep. Wash squeezed his shoulders as a response.

Even though Tucker wished he could stay up as late as Wash does to comfort him, he was usually out fairly quickly. Wash didn’t mind, though. He was doing his best and that’s what matters.

Of course Tucker’s acts of romance didn’t stop at cuddly late nights. He always tried to go the extra mile for Wash. Go big or go home.

 

One day Wash had a pretty hard time during training. He was sore, his back hurt, and to top it all off, Carolina suggested they squared off as part of her hand-to-hand combat training session to ‘show these guys how to actually fight.’ To say the least, it did not go too well for Wash and there may have been a little (or a lot) of snickering from both the Feds and the Rebels. Wash was walking around stiff the rest of the day with a hand on his lower back. He looked old.

Tucker decided he should heal Wash of his ailment with his magic hands. But in the least sexual way possible. With so much hesitation you couldn’t even imagine, Tucker knocked on Donut’s door.

“Whooo is ittt?” Came the cheery call. Tucker groaned.

“It’s Tucker I need to um… borrow something from you.” Donut answered the door with a very attentive but mildly shocked look on his face.

“I didn’t know Wash was into all of that,” he said, a hand placed on his cheek. Tucker smacked his own forehead with the palm of his hand and then dragged it down his face.

“No, Donut, not _that_ kind of stuff. Christ, man,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. When Donut didn’t say anything, he sighed. “I need to borrow lotion—the least sexy scent you have!” He added when Donut started jumping and clapping his hands. Donut sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll see what I got,” he said as he left the doorway. “You can come in if you want!”

“I’d rather not.”

He gave him a strawberry scented lotion. The bottle didn’t seem gross or covered in questionable substances, so Tucker’s guess is that Donut uses this on his hands or something. Tucker checked the time when he got back to his room. It was 8:33, so Wash should be wrapping up his work for the day. He sent him a quick message before setting up. (No, it wasn’t their “Spa Day” no matter how many times Donut called it that.)

**Lavernius: Come to my room when you’re done**

Wash saw the message but he never responded. Jerk. Tucker started setting up anyway. He had to do this in a way that he would be 80% confident he wouldn’t get a boner and therefor making Wash uncomfortable. There was almost no way to do that so he decided to just set up two chairs next to the table where he had a candle lit (unscented unfortunately, but it’s the thought that counts) and the bottle of lotion. He set up the chairs so they were facing each other.

Wash finally arrived half an hour later. Tucker had to blow out the candle and then relight it later so it wouldn’t completely burn away, but now the room faintly smelled like smoke.

“Dear God, what are you doing in here?” Wash asked with mild amusement.

“Being the best boyfriend ever,” Tucker answered, not being wavered by the look of skepticism in Wash’s eyes. He walked over to the table and gestured to it with a grand motion of his arm. Wash just stood there.

“Okay?”

That made Tucker falter. “You’re such an asshole. Just come over here and sit down,” he said.

“Okay, best boyfriend ever,” Wash responded with a sarcastic smile. He walked over and sat in one of the chairs.

“No, no, the other way. Straddle it,” Tucker instructed, waving his finger in a circle. Wash looked at him confused but complied. “Okay, now, um, take your shirt off,” Tucker said. That was the first time he said that to Wash and it felt weird. Wash stiffened.

“Um,” is all he said.

“I promise this won’t be weird. Just trust me,” Tucker said, starting to get nervous. _For the love of God, don’t make him uncomfortable you fucking asshole._

Wash nodded. “I trust you,” he said before taking his shirt off. Tucker sat in the chair behind him and rubbed his hands together quickly, warming them up.

“I just uh, I saw your back was hurting you so I thought I’d give you a massage,” he said shyly. He suddenly felt so embarrassed. This was dumb.

Wash smiled and looked over his shoulder at Tucker. “Thank you,” he said. “That would be nice.”

Relief rushed over Tucker as he let out a sigh. “Oh, thank God,” he said, mostly to himself. When he felt his hands were warm enough, he grabbed the frilly looking bottle of lotion and squeezed some out on his hand. He started by just spreading the lotion all over his back, not really applying any pressure. Wash had his arms folded on the back of the chair and as soon as Tucker’s hands were on him, his head dropped to his arms.

Tucker didn’t really know what he was doing but he could feel all the knots in Wash’s back, that’s for damn sure. They felt like stones beneath his skin. He worked them out the best he could with his thumbs, knuckles, and the heels of his hands. He apparently was doing a good job because Wash would occasionally say things like, “That feels nice” or “Ah, right there.” It was honestly really cute and Tucker had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from laughing.

When Tucker was done working over the more prominent problem spots, he just started moving his hands whatever felt right in the moment. He let his fingers gently glide down Wash’s back and then use his palms to apply pressure as he pushed them back up. He did this from the center of his spine to his sides and back to the center again. Wash’s skin must have been in desperate need of moisturizer because Tucker had to reapply the lotion after that.

He then rubbed little circles over all the skin he could, concentrating on his shoulders. He never went too far down his back. He would stop at his waist, afraid it would make him uncomfortable if he went further down. When his fingers started hurting from the constant pressure, he opted to tracing every scar, crater, and bruise on Wash’s skin. He traced over his tattoo. Wash’s breathing slowed down considerably and Tucker was 95% sure that he fell asleep. He then started writing invisible cursive letters on his skin. He wrote little messages like “You make me happy”, “You’re gorgeous”, and “I love you.” Tucker will never know if Wash deciphered his messages.

The whole processes probably took over an hour. Tucker wasn’t even sure if he fixed the actual problem, but Wash looked like he was on cloud nine.

“You look so Zen,” Tucker commented as he cleaned up. Wash smiled and nodded his head from his position on the bed.

“That was nice,” he whispered, still smiling like a goof. Tucker smiled and looked down, bashful. Unfortunately, he had to make a quick stop in the showers. His set up didn’t prevent him from setting up.

“I’ll be back,” he said before darting out. And when he got back Wash was completely passed out. Tucker turned off the light and joined his partner in bed. It was probably the best night’s sleep either of them got while on this planet.

 

The massages didn’t end there. That one was the most intimate but Tucker would still give him little shoulder and neck massages all the time. Wash would be working at his desk and then bam Tucker is behind him, kneading away. It was a nice little tradition in their relationship and Wash was not complaining. Not one bit.

Tucker also discovered a little trick. If he played with Wash’s hair, he would relax _instantly._ He mainly used that trick when Wash was busying himself with work and Tucker wanted cuddles, but it also helped with more serious moments, too. If Wash was having trouble falling asleep (which was maybe four nights out of the week) Tucker would play with his hair to try to get him to sleep. It wouldn’t always work, but at least Wash was getting some useful rest and wasn’t staring at the ceiling until 3AM.

It also helped on the nights when Wash did get to sleep at a reasonable time, but then was rudely awakened by nightmares (which were the other three nights in the week). Wash would wake abruptly, and then immediately roll on top of Tucker and cling to him. It was unclear if this was to comfort himself or to protect Tucker. Nevertheless, Tucker would bring a hand up to massage Wash’s head until he stopped shaking and was finally settled. This could take fifteen minutes to two hours, depending on the subject of the nightmare. But Tucker was patient and he loved Wash, so he would do whatever it took to keep him healthy and sane.

Or course this went both ways. Tucker _loved_ having his back rubbed and scratched and Wash was glad to return the favor. Anytime they were in each other’s rooms and talking, it was paired with some sort of touch. Absentmindedly tracing patterns on the other’s skin was Tucker’s favorite. Wash’s favorite was holding hands or lying with his arm around Tucker. He liked to feel like he was protecting him.

 

Tucker’s romantic acts didn’t exist only in private moments. He kept up his communication with Wash throughout the day, even when they weren’t in the same vicinity. He would constantly send him messages on their private channel, whether they’d be audio, video, text, or picture. He’d send him spy pictures of Grif napping in ridiculous places, videos of Simmons trying to yell at his squad but his voice keeps cracking, audio clips of Caboose trying to explain something to him. Anything that might make him laugh or at least amuse him.

 One time he sent Wash a picture of a rock formation that looked like a cat. Wash sent back a text that said, ‘ **Literally thank you so much :’).** ’ It was the little things, you know? Anything that could make the impending doom of this planet more tolerable. One time Wash sent Tucker a picture of Carolina punching some insubordinate in the face. Tucker thought about that picture for three days straight.

**Lavernius: tell me about the worst restaurant you’ve ever been to**

Wash opened the random text one day and furrowed his eyebrows at it.

**My Man: What?**

**Lavernius: your best restaurant story. Go**

**My Man: Um.**

**My Man: Oh, I have one. But it’s not really a ‘worst restaurant’ story. Just one time my sister brought a frog into a fancy restaurant.**

**Lavernius: GO ON**

**My Man: Haha. Well, we were young and she didn’t really want to go. So out of spite, she took a frog that she captured earlier that day and kept it in her bag until we got there.**

**My Man: And then she let it go free under the table. All my siblings and I watched it hop away while our parents remained unaware.**

**Lavernius: Don’t leave me hangin**

**My Man: Sorry, C needed something.**

**My Man: Anyway.**

**My Man: We watched it hop. All the way into the kitchen.**

**Lavernius: OH MAN**

**My Man: Yeah!**

**My Man: It wasn’t good. One of the waitresses screamed and dropped a whole tray of food. The chef started yelling at her. The manager came out and apologized.**

**My Man: My siblings and I were laughing hysterically and our parents had no idea why. Eventually, the frog was caught and thrown outside.**

**Lavernius: that’s amazing.**

**Lavernius: did your parents find out**

**My Man: Nope.**

**My Man: Was that satisfying enough for you?**

**Lavernius: yes, thank you**

**My Man: You’re welcome, weirdo.**

**Lavernius: your weirdo!**

**My Man: :p**

Conversations like that happened all the time. They were both interested in each other’s childhood and enjoyed learning more. Tucker thought it was the coolest part of being in love. You learn so much about the person and all these specific memories and stories and thoughts and they’ve lived through _so much,_ good and bad, yet they somehow were brought to you. And you were brought to them.

These were the thoughts Tucker had on the rare nights that he was awake while Wash slept like a baby next to him.   

 

One time Tucker had such a romantic idea he wondered if Donut somehow implanted his own thoughts into Tucker’s brain. Or maybe he spent too much time around him, which would be saying a lot considering he avoids him at all times. Either way, he called up Kimball.

“Can I speak to you for a minute?” He asked when she answered.

“I’m kind of busy. I’m in meetings all day.”

“Please? It’s super important.”

Kimball sighed. “Fine. What is it?”

“Not over the phone. I need you to meet me by the dock,” Tucker said.

“What?? I don’t have time for that, Captain Tucker.”

“Dude, come on. On a scale from one to ten, this is like level eleven important,” Tucker explained. Kimball sighed again.

“Fine. What is it about?”

“…Wash.”

Kimball thought that was odd, but she was curious. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

Tucker did a victory dance and then proceeded to wait on the dock for the entire twenty minutes. Did he have work he could’ve done? Yes. Did he care? Nope.

Kimball finally showed up, out of breath and a little annoyed. “Okay,” she said. “What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“I need you to take a walk with me around the perimeter and tell me which flowers are poisonous and which ones are harmless.”

Kimball almost turned around and left right then and there. But she didn’t because part of her wanted to hear his explanation for this. “…Why?” She said through her teeth. “What—what does this have to do with Wash…?”

Tucker really _really_ didn’t want to explain to her, but he knew he had to otherwise she would leave. “I want to give them to Wash,” he said flatly. Kimball smiled behind her helmet. She decided to help him even though she had a million other things to do because this was the cutest darn thing she’s ever heard. And she let Tucker know that. Many times. It was funny watching him get all flustered and embarrassed.

“You know, Tucker, I really didn’t think you had this in you,” she commented.

“Shut up,” Tucker replied. He was blushing furiously the whole time but thankfully he had his helmet on. “What about these?” He asked, pointing to a patch of flowers that were glowing.

“You know? I’m not sure. They might be harmful, but they might not.”

“Thanks, I never could’ve guessed that,” he said dryly. She punched his arm.

Tucker took those flowers anyway because they looked badass. Or as badass a bundle of flowers could look. He was going to make a bouquet and present them to Wash but he didn’t feel like arranging them and he couldn’t think of a way to give them that wasn’t awkward as shit. Instead, he spread them all throughout Wash’s room so it looked like it rained flowers.

They were _way_ cooler than earth flowers. Of course he had the glowing ones, but then there were ones with stripes, ones with dots, ones with crazy shaped petals, and ones with bright almost neon colors. They looked so insane and exotic and _alien._ They smelled nice, too. Almost sweet. Basically, Wash’s room looked cool as shit and Donut would be so proud of him. (If he knew, which he never ever will because if he did he would never shut up about it.)

_Wash is gonna make out with me for_ hours _for this,_ Tucker thought to himself. He danced around the room, ready to be cute as heck with his boyfriend. He didn’t send him a message this time. He wanted him to be as surprised as possible.

What Tucker wasn’t expecting was to be surprised himself. When Wash opened his door, he wasn’t alone. Sarge was with him.

Now this wasn’t a suspicious “Wash what are you doing with Sarge?” kind of situation. This was more of a “Sarge never got over his Big Gay Crush on Wash so he follows him around all the time and is now seeing Tucker standing in Wash’s room surrounded by flowers” kind of situation.

Tucker stood frozen in the middle of the room while both of them stared at him with bug eyes. “I can explain,” he said but then didn’t continue to explain.

While still staring at Tucker, Wash brought a hand up, pushed Sarge back into the hallway and then closed the door behind him. It was a long pause before he finally heard footsteps walking away. Once Sarge’s distance was confirmed, Wash allowed himself to take in the room.

It was _gorgeous._ Flowers were everywhere and it smelled like home. Like earth. He walked around the room, studying each petal, occasionally glancing at Tucker who was still standing awkwardly in the middle of it all. This was unbelievable and mystical to Wash. His room looked like an indoor garden. Nothing this extraordinary and beautiful should be happening on a planet about to go to war. It shouldn’t be happening to him. Finally he came face-to-face with Tucker.

“You did this?” He asked.

“Who else?” Tucker answered.

And then Wash kissed him. And he kept kissing him. For hours and hours, just like Tucker was anticipating. They laid together in the homemade meadow that was now Wash’s floor and just forgot about time. Wash’s kisses were so sweet and emotional. He’d squeeze Tucker’s sides or arms or hands. They were both smiling and giggling the whole time. It was ethereal.

Eventually they got tired and stopped, but they continued to lay there for a while. Tucker had to excuse himself to go to the showers. (Again. This happened a lot.) When he got back, Wash was sitting cross-legged on the bed with all the flowers in front of him. He was putting them in separate piles.

“Dude, are you organizing them?” Tucker asked. Wash looked up at him through his eyelashes and gave a small smile.

“Maybe,” he answered.

“You’re such a nerd,” Tucker said when he sat down next to him. He sighed and then curled up so his cheek was resting on Wash’s thigh. Wash took the opportunity to wrap some flowers around Tucker’s dreads. Not a single lock went undecorated with a variety of flowers and Tucker _loved_ it. He wished he could’ve kept them in forever. It was probably the gayest thing they’ve ever done.

 

Correction: _This_ was the gayest thing they’ve ever done.

“Come on, Wash, just for a minute,” Tucker pleaded.

“No.”

“Pleeease? You might really enjoy it,” he tried.

“You’re probably right. But still no,” Wash answered. Tucker frowned and gave his best puppy dog eyes. Wash sighed. “Fine. One song.”

Tucker clapped rapidly and then jogged over to the sound system. He picked a song that he could sing dramatically to. _Perfect._

A few soft piano notes filled the room. Wash listened to it carefully as Tucker approached him with one hand reaching for him. “Is this Zayn?” Wash asked as the first line started.

“I’m surprised you knew that.”

“My sister really likes him,” he answered dryly.

“Yeah, _sure,_ your sister,” Tucker teased, pulling Wash in. They stood in a waltz stance and started to sway together to the soft rhythm.

“Shut up.”

_You’re caught between a dream and a movie scene._

“This is the cheesiest thing ever. Of all time.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“Nope,” Wash said, looking up and away to avoid eye contact. And also to hid his smile.

Tucker started humming along to the song, but when the chorus hit, he went full out.

“ ‘Cause I’m a fooooool for youuuu!!” He belted. Wash snorted and dropped his head to Tucker’s shoulder, unable to control his laughter. Tucker kept going, though.

“Why are you so extra??” Wash asked when he finally gained control of himself.

“It’s in my blood, baby!” He answered. Wash shook his head, still laughing quietly. “Come on, you’re enjoying this,” Tucker teased. Wash still wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Nah, it’s too cliché.”

Tucker kept singing along when the second verse started. Unfortunately for Wash, the second part of the verse was _super_ loud and Tucker sang it more wildly than the chorus.

“You know that door is unlocked,” Wash yelled over the vocals. “Someone could come in at any second and you’d be totally embarrassed.”

Tucker shook his head. “No way that could happen.” Then the chorus hit again and Tucker started swaying more forcefully as he continue to belt out the song.

“It’s a ‘no’ for me,” Wash said in a mock British accent. Tucker laughed and hit him lightly on the shoulder.

Then the bridge started which was honestly Tucker’s favorite part of the song. He hated how Wash wouldn’t look at him, though. It’s not like Tucker could easily look him in the eyes. He was too short.

_I know, I know, given the chance I’d do it again._

Tucker kept trying to look in Wash’s eyes as he sang, but he kept moving his head. He was still smiling though, obviously teasing him. Tucker gave up and kissed Wash’s neck.

_‘Cause I can’t help myself._ Kiss. _‘Cause I can’t stop myself._ Kiss.

Wash still wouldn’t budge. Out of frustration, Tucker grabbed his chin and forced him to look down.

_I just love being a fool for you._

To ruin the moment, Tucker booped his nose. Well, he thought he ruined the moment, but that somehow made Wash melt and rest his forehead against Tucker’s. Tucker finally stopped singing and let the actual vocals of the song fill the room. Eventually it became background noise to Tucker really feeling Wash’s presence and spirit. His arms were around his hips and Tucker’s arms were around his neck. He could smell him and feel him and hold him. Their swaying slowed down so much that they were barely even moving. This was so magical, why hadn’t they done this before?

Then Wash finally _finally_ kissed him as the last verse was sung and the music began to fade.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't realize the fluff week ends tomorrow so here I am.
> 
> notsebastianstan.tumblr.com


End file.
